


Dan & Phil

by jellyquinn



Category: Phan, Phandom, dan and phil
Genre: AU, Eleanor & Park AU, M/M, Phan AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 03:52:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5812801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellyquinn/pseuds/jellyquinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If this kid went back any farther, Steve would probably break his big, dorky glasses. Dan didn’t want to have this guy as his responsibility, the bus seats were small, if you sat with someone, there was no avoiding either awkward silence or awkward conversation. There would be no more easy mornings if he sat here now, or easy afternoons, for that matter. Dan sighed and did the decent thing, damn him, he grabbed the kid’s wrist."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dan & Phil

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfiction I've ever posted on any site, so please, let me know honesty what you think. I'm not looking for compliments, I'm looking for feedback. My friend wanted me to write a Phan Eleanor & Park AU, so that's what this is. I don't own Dan or Phil, (or Steve, I guess, I'm not sure if Rainbow used that name in the books,) I'll try to keep it loosely based as possible while still making it an AU. The book that I'm loosely basing this off of is Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell. I'll continue if anyone asks me to. Any and all feedback is appreciated, thanks!
> 
> (Edit: The intro doesn't have anything important and is a bit cheesy, so feel free to skip over that bit.)

Dan had stopped trying to bring him back.

He only came back when he felt like it, in dreams and lies and broken down déjà vu.  
Like, when Dan was on the train, and he saw a boy with blue-black fringe, and he thought for a fleeting second that it was Phil.  
But then he saw that the boy was more a brunette than anything else, and the boy lifted his face and Dan saw that he had eyes like mud.

Nothing like Phil.

Phil.

Dan’s heart slowed down, but that didn’t matter, because the floodgates had already been opened. Images rushed in and he remembered all the old habits Phil had, the way he sometimes stuck out his tongue when he laughed, other times covering his mouth with his hands and going pink, the way he twisted his hands in his pockets, his constant dorky little nose twitches. He could swear Phil glowed.  
It was odd that he could still picture Phil in such a pleasant way after he had gone about ruining everything.

Phil hadn’t ever called. Phil hadn’t ever texted. That might not have been entirely his fault, but Dan knew there was a payphone at the gas station, and if that didn’t work, he at least could have written Dan something solid.

Phil was gone, hell knew where he was now.

Dan had stopped trying to bring him back.

*

September, 1986

(Dan)

Things were too loud. Too sharp. Too fragile. Everything could fall apart, and it wouldn’t take much of a push. There was nothing real to hold onto, though. Nothing that couldn’t be picked up and dragged to the next town on his father’s over sized shoulders. He had learned to keep quiet, not make eye contact, and apologize for almost everything he did. People hadn’t caught on here yet, and he was beginning to doubt they would, their sculls were too thick for most things to get through.

Dan was gay. He would never admit that to another soul, but maybe he was cracked somewhere and it leaked out. He was born in Leeds and was raised there, everything was perfect and still until sixth grade. A boy had kissed him on the lips, more rammed into Dan’s mouth with his, really. It was quick, and whatever hole the boy had been trying to fill had gone rancid with regret. He had told everyone the next day that Dan had attacked him. It hadn’t gone like that, Dan hadn’t even moved, but something had hitched in his chest as the set of brown eyes and chapped lips moved in. They were still too young to use the word rape, some didn’t even know what it was, but it was an all-boys school, and all that aggression had to go somewhere. Dan had been hit, kicked, tortured in the worst ways little boys could think of. Swirlies, Indian burns, wet willies on occasion. They called him fag, pussy, the whole mess of mean names kids learned from their older brothers. But they were just kids, right? Nothing they did really hurt… right? When he came home with two black eyes, and his dad had finally had enough, his dad had gone down to the school and had a ‘talk’ with the principle. They moved the next evening, driving fast with no headlights.

They had landed in some filthy corner of Manchester, their house was the nicest on the block. His mother styled the neighbor girls’ hair in their garage when she wasn’t working in her little makeup booth in the nearest mall (which wasn’t as near as it ought to be). She had more friends Dan’s age than did, she was bubbly and wore a billowy jacket that rose around her when she walked. Her hair was in chocolate springs that matched her eyes, her teeth weren’t quite right, her nose was small and pointy and her eyes were always sparkly. She kissed Dan’s father on the lips every day before work, and he kissed her back, his big hands around her little waist. It was almost disgusting how in love they were, Dan thought. 

They had met a long while back and ran away together and his father had been handsome, his mother told him, with the white shirt and gelled hair (“like from Greece!” his mother always exclaimed). He had brown hair, a shade lighter than Dan’s own, green eyes, and a square jaw. It wasn’t hard to see the remanence of his ‘50s style if you looked, he was, ironically enough, a mechanic. He had a black ’67 Impala that he kept waxed, his second favorite thing (first being his wife). Dan didn’t seem to be one of his priorities, not after they had moved. They said hello at breakfast, but that was about it. Dan knew his dad knew he was gay. They hadn’t talked about it, but upon seeing Dan with his matching bruised eyes, he had looked disappointed. Something shifted when Dan had told them how they’d gotten there. Something had clicked when Dan had said why.

He was on the school bus and he was jostled as it hit (another) bump. He tried to turn up his Walkman more, finding it was at full volume already. One of the Neanderthals in the back was shouting again. He could hear the blurred sound of what sounded like Steve’s voice roaring from the back, talking about a punching technique he had learned. 

“Who wants to volunteer so I can try it out?” he shouted, he hungrily scanned the crowd.

Everybody was talking over each other in a slow rolling wad of bus noise. The girls were ranting shrilly about somebody’s boyfriend who apparently had ditched his date, not that Dan could blame him. Some older kids were sharing a cigarette and laughing about stupid jokes in the back corner. Nobody paid much attention to Steve besides his friends, who were laughing and shouting for “anyone to bring it on!”  
Only one more stop to go, then a seven minute ride. Dan clicked to a louder track. 

After a few minutes of mind-numbingly loud Sex Pistols, the bus screeched to a halt for the second to last time. The usual people shuffled on, half awake. At the end of the line was someone Dan had never seen before. 

He looked around shyly, bright blue pools scanning the seats nervously. The girls whispered in the back, one of the kids in the way back stared at him while taking a long drag. Steve and his sidekicks looked at each other, smirking, planning how to ‘initiate’ the new kid if he dared to approach their section of the bus. Almost all the seats were packed, excluding the one next to Dan and a few more obvious ones near Steve. They were empty for a reason.

Of course, the stupid kid started walking back. Dan had the sneaking suspicion that the new boy might be their test subject. ‘No, no, no, no, kid.’ Dan thought. He was fucked if he went near Steve, he was almost by Dan now. He looked jumpy, which was making Steve smile particularly wide. Steve had extra teeth, like a shark. The kid was wearing a blue flannel and jeans. He looked at least a year younger with long legs and a big nose with a bump on the bridge. He wore thick black glasses and dark fringe. He was chewing on the inside of his cheek and wobbling in the knees, right by Dan’s seat now. If this kid went back any farther, Steve would probably break his big, dorky glasses. Dan didn’t want to have this guy as his responsibility, the bus seats were small, if you sat with someone, there was no avoiding either awkward silence or awkward conversation. There would be no more easy mornings if he sat here now, or easy afternoons, for that matter. Dan sighed and did the decent thing, damn him, he grabbed the kid’s wrist. The bus lurched forward and the kid stumbled, causing snickering from everyone in the back.

“Sit down!” Dan hissed through his teeth, the phrase coming out a bit harsher than he had meant. 

His new found seat mate mumbled “sorry” before they settled into the longest, most awkward seven minutes of Dan’s life.


End file.
